Of Dragons and Princes
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: In Haven, a place of peace and safety, where all problems are left behind, Minho manages to find himself a problem of his own: he's in love with Thomas. (A three-part story, of what happened after the Death Cure)
1. Chapter 1

Of Dragons & Princes

"Oh, how the mighty fall in love." –Fallout Boy

It happened slowly.

Minho wasn't even exactly sure how it happened.

It had taken a while for the Immunes to get settled into their new lifestyle, in the community they were now calling Haven. They had found out pretty soon that their new home wasn't completely free of danger. There was the surrounding forest, where many animals lived, including the wolf pack Jorge had nearly stumbled into a week ago. And there was the cliff at the edge of the forest, that dropped down to jagged rocks below on the beach, before turning into the vast expanse of the ocean. Some kids had almost fallen over the side. So, no, Haven wasn't perfect. But it was theirs.

It was a slow process at first, to set up a daily routine in their new home. Shelters had to be built for everybody and food had to be gathered. But once the system was well under way, things ran smoothly for the Immunes.

It was in the midst of all this setting-up and settling-down that it happened: the thing that had snuck up on Minho over the past few months, the thing that had worked its way under his skin and refused to leave now. It was a thing that both terrified him and filled him with a strange new happiness that he couldn't share with anyone. And it was something he couldn't hope to fight.

He was falling in love with Thomas.

He was watching him now, sitting back against a tall oak at the edge of the woods, idly twirling a stalk of grass between his fingers. He tried to focus on that, or stare at his boots, and not look over at the boy a few yards away. Thomas was helping out a few of the Immune mothers today, keeping their children busy while they worked. Two little kids were running back and forth around him, a fair-haired boy and a girl with dark pigtails, both of their faces alight. Thomas was pretending to be a bear, chasing them around in the swaying, golden grass. "No, silly, a bear grooowwlls," the girl giggled with a mock snarl.

Thomas grinned his open, kind grin. "Whatever you say," he replied. Then he took a threatening, exaggerated step forward and growled playfully. Minho tried to ignore the pleasant shiver that ran over his skin when he heard it. Damn, even when he was playing, Thomas was sexy.

Minho didn't mean to fall in love with Thomas. He tried not to.

But how could you NOT fall in love with Thomas? First of all, he was hot. He had soft, sandy-brown hair that was just long enough to fall across his forehead, and his eyes were a gorgeous shade of mahogany. His skin was sun-kissed from being outside all the time and he had a way of moving that hinted at smooth, toned muscle. Second of all, he was just so damn perfect. He was kind and caring and honest. He would help anyone in need, no matter who they were. He would willingly sacrifice himself for anyone here, if he had to. He did his part and more, aiding the older Immunes in building up their shelters, looking for food, playing with the kids. If you saw him, you could almost see the pure, giving light glowing around him. He was a truly good person.

And Minho loved him.

But Minho wasn't a good person. He knew he was mean sometimes, and sarcastic, and rude. The other Immunes didn't like him very much, even though he worked just as hard as they did. And since Brenda hung out with Jorge all the time (because Brenda and Thomas had broken up for reasons that were still unknown), and Thomas was always busy, Minho had no one to talk to. He was lonely.

Anyway, he had a promise to keep.

A promise that meant he couldn't be with Thomas.

No matter how much he wanted to.

A pair of tiny hands tugging at his black T-shirt surprised him. The girl with the pigtails and crystal-blue eyes was bouncing up and down next to him. "Come on, Minho!" she urged eagerly. "Come and play with us!" She was adorably hilarious, rocking back and forth, pulling at his neckline because the sleeves of his T-shirt had been ripped off. Angie, he thought her name was.

"I dunno..." he trailed off. What if he slipped up? What if they were playing, and Thomas touched him, and he did something stupid?

"Awwww, pleeeeeaaase?" Angie flopped her chin onto his chest and gave him puppy-dog eyes.

Minho may have been tough, and Keeper of the Runners, but no amount of toughness can withstand the puppy-dog eyes. He cracked a half-smile. "Okay, okay," he relented.

"Yayyy!" Angie cheered, throwing her hands into the air. "Minho's gonna play with us!"

The fair-haired boy, Will, flashed a gap-toothed grin. "Awesome!" Apparently, the kids were the only ones who still liked Minho.

Minho stood up and made his way over to the little group. When he was close enough, Thomas arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh, so the big, tough Runner decided to play with us?" he asked teasingly.

Minho scoffed. "Maybe."

Thomas laughed, and the sound was like running water, lazy and beautiful.

Angie pointed at them commandingly, one hand on her hip, the breeze tugging at her pink-and-white dress. "Okay! We're gonna play Prince and Princess! I'm gonna be the princess, Thomas is gonna be the prince..."

"I'm gonna be the knight!" Will announced, pumping his fist in the air gleefully. Thomas and Minho exchanged an amused glance.

"...and Minho's gonna be the dragon," Angie continued. "Thomas is gonna take me to the castle, and Minho's gonna try to get the princess, and Will's gonna defend us!"

Minho mock-pouted. "How come I'm the dragon?"

"Cuz you look like one," Thomas replied sarcastically.

Minho smirked crookedly at that. "Then there must be some pretty good-looking dragons out there."

Angie pulled at Thomas' pale blue shirt. "C'mon, c'mon!" she ordered. "He's gonna get us, remember?"

"Oh, right," Thomas said. Then he grinned and scooped her up, setting her atop his shoulders. She let out a squeal of joy and sank her dainty fingers into his hair. "Let's go!"

Angie jabbed a finger to the azure sky. "To the castle!"

"To the castle!" Thomas echoed. He glanced down at Will. "Will, you have my permission to slay the ugly dragon." The he dashed for the woods, with a galloping Will and a grinning Minho behind him.

Sunlight speared down through the branches in soft shafts of gold as they weaved between the tree trunks like flitting shadows. The ground was dappled in a design of dark green and brilliant emerald, as Minho chased the princess and prince deeper into the woods. The children's laughter echoed from ahead like the impish giggles of woodland spirits. Minho began to recognize the ferns and trees around him, and realized that he knew where Angie was making Thomas go. There was a clearing in the middle of the woods, the perfect place for her castle.

He could see it now. It was a small space of soft grass, with a fat, gnarled tree in the center. It was a squat, rather cute thing, with thick, windy branches and dark, strong bark. Its branches spread outwards rather than up, and it made for a brilliant castle. Thomas was standing at the bottom of it, with Angie beaming on his shoulders. Will was already up in the tree's crown, dangling his sandaled feet over the side of a large branch.

Angie gave a little squeak when she saw Minho. "Thomas! He's coming! Climb into the castle!" She patted Thomas' head to get him moving.

"All right, hold on!" Thomas turned and started to clamber up into the tree. It took him no time at all to reach the first set of branches.

"Climbing won't save you!" Minho called deviously. He jogged to the base of the tree trunk and reached for the first limbs. He pressed the sole of one boot to the trunk and hauled himself easily up into the tree. The world was turned into a brown-and-green wonderland of colors and sunlight around him. The tree was even wider than it looked inside the layer of leaves.

Will shouted a warning and Angie twisted to look over her shoulder. She shrieked when she glimpsed Minho and slid down Thomas' back to cling to his shoulders. "Thomas! He's coming, he's coming!" she hollered.

"Get behind me!" Thomas replied, turning himself around on a thick branch and keeping Angie at his back. He was facing Minho now, inching backwards with a smile on his face.

"You can't escape a dragon forever, princess," Minho grinned, playing the part. He grabbed a sturdy limb and pulled himself up, bringing himself up onto Thomas' branch, the trunk behind him.

Angie peeked over Thomas' shoulder. "Will!" she cried. "Help! The dragon's gonna get me!"

"I can't!" came Will's reply. "Too far away!"

Thomas and Minho faced each other, equal playful grins on their faces. Minho held out his hand dramatically. "Give me the princess," he ordered in dark tones.

Thomas lifted his chin. "You'll have to come and take her from me yourself," he challenged.

They both paused in a tense moment of silence.

Then Minho just went for it. They collapsed into a giggling, laughing pile balanced on the branches, Minho reaching around Thomas to get at Angie, who was shrieking and squirming, and Thomas sandwiched between them. It was funny, and breathless, and wonderful. Minho hadn't felt this alive in days. There was a second when he drew back slightly, a shivering slice of time when he realized there was only a gasp of air between him and Thomas. He had one hand braced on the branch behind Thomas, his arm pressing against Thomas' side, and his other hand was reached up, holding himself up on a thinner tree limb. There was hardly four inches between their radiant smiles.

Thomas' chest rose and fell from the play-fight. "Give up?" he asked.

"Never," Minho replied, his head spinning woozily from how close they were. Dear God, he could smell Thomas' sweet scent of wood and grass and home. He fought the urge to bury his face in Thomas' neck and inhale more of that incredible smell.

"Then what're you waiting for, dragon?" Thomas asked. "Thinking about stealing the prince instead?"

Oh my god, was Thomas flirting with him? "You wish," Minho flashed back.

Angie knotted her fingers in Thomas' shirt. "No, don't take my prince! He's too young to be eaten by a dragon!"

"Minho's gonna EAT Thomas?!" Will's shout echoed to them.

"Bring it on!" Thomas declared boldly. His brown eyes twinkled. "I dare you, Min."

Minho's gaze flicked to Thomas' mouth without meaning to. His entire being ached: kiss me kiss me kiss me. He shoved the silent plea away. "Well, if that's what you want..." He shot one arm out, behind Thomas though, and finally grabbed Angie's wrist, making sure to be gentle.

Angie screamed in the exhilarating fear that only came from a game. "He's got me!"

"Not for long!" Thomas yelled back.

And then a curious thing happened.

Minho suddenly felt Thomas poke a hand into his side, and tingles exploded under his skin, and lightning-fast, he snatched his arm away from Angie. An odd burst of laughter escaped him, something like a giggle, but Minho never giggled. Thomas stared at him with wide eyes, a huge smile spreading across his face. "Oh my god."

Minho lost all play. "No."

"Yes."

"Thomas, no."

"Are you...ticklish, Minho?"

Minho didn't say anything.

Angie looked as though she's discovered the cure to the Flare and world hunger at the same time. "Minho's TICKLISH!" she chortled.

"NO WAY!" Will hollered back.

Thomas grinned wickedly.

Minho had two seconds to think, oh SHIT. Then he turned and literally jumped from the tree as Thomas chased after him, Angie on his heels. He hit the ground running. There is a certain, all-consuming terror that can only come from being chased through the woods by two small children and a very attractive guy, all of which are planning on tickling you until you beg for mercy. This terror cannot be beaten by any scrap of courage. Minho was very embarrassed to admit that he was feeling this terror now. And, as many of you have learned as children, there is no escape from those who want to tickle you.

They will find you.

Minho made it the whole way back to the meadow just outside the first houses of Haven before Angie caught him. He couldn't disappoint the cute little girl and besides, he was exhausted. He collapsed onto his back, snickering and trying in vain to push her off as she dug her fingers into his sides. Will joined her and they attacked from both sides, sending tiny tingles into Minho's ribs. A few older Immunes nearby stopped and watched with warm smiles on their aged faces.

Suddenly, Thomas' face appeared above Minho. "Got you," he said triumphantly.

"CRAP!" Minho scrambled to get up, but he had two toddlers on top of him.

Thomas was part of the tickling fight now, and he was older than Angie or Will so he knew what he was doing. He attacked Minho's sides, reducing the Keeper into a laughing, breathless mess. Minho twisted his body, desperate to escape, but he was trapped. "Beg for mercy!" Will crowed.

"Yeah, beg for mercy!" Angie added, tugging lightly on Minho's jet-black, tousled hair.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Well, Min?"

"Agh, okay, stop, please!" Minho gasped out, giggling like a freaking girl as they tickled him. The two kids stopped immediately and danced around in a circle, whooping victoriously. Thomas stopped too, his arms braced on either side of Minho's head, his body practically on top of Minho's. Minho groaned in relief and fell back against the grass. His abs were killing him. He looked up at Thomas through half-closed eyes, his chest heaving.

Thomas was just as breathless. His eyes travelled briefly over Minho stretched out beneath him. "God, you're so—" He broke off abruptly, as though he'd realized he wasn't supposed to say something.

Minho sobered instantly. "What?"

A flash of nervousness flickered over Thomas' face and he shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "It's nothing." He clambered up off of Minho and stood. Then he bent and held out his hand. Minho hesitated a beat before accepting it and letting Thomas help him up. Thomas gave a half-smile. "So, the mighty dragon falls," he observed jokingly.

Minho rolled his eyes. "By the lowest and least honorable of all fighting techniques," he added pointedly.

"Want me to call them back here?" Thomas asked, bobbing his head toward Will and Angie.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT."

Thomas grinned, happy and dazzling, and turned away to see that Will and Angie got back to their parents. Minho watched him go, a little dazed. He didn't even notice the old woman until she was beside him. "You like him, don't you?" she asked knowingly, a smile on her face, her voice like crackling paper.

Minho jumped. "What? Who?" He immediately played dumb.

"Oh, don't play dumb," the old woman scolded, reading his thoughts. She gestured at Thomas, who was reliving the battle with an excited Angie. "Him. Thomas."

"Oh." Minho rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I... Yeah."

"I knew it. I could see it in the way you looked at him." She patted his arm. "He likes you too, you know."

Surprise sparked in Minho's mind, then hope and joy filled his whole body...until shame took over. His promise... "How do you know?" he asked.

The woman replied as though she'd seen it many times before. "His eyes," she said. "They light up when he looks at you, and it's like he can't look at anyone else. You two would be perfect together, I'll tell you that." And with that, she gave his arm a final pat and shuffled away.


	2. Chapter 2

Minho had been in a relationship before. He had been in love before.

With Newt.

Newt, the lovely blonde angel, who hadn't been immune to the Flare. Who had tried so hard to be a good person. Who had died, after begging Thomas to kill him. Minho had loved Newt more than anyone in this world. They were Runners together, they worked together, they were everything to each other. After Newt died, Minho had lost a piece of himself for a while. He turned into someone awful, even worse than he was now. He never wanted to go back to that place.

He had made Newt a promise. He had promised that, no matter what, he would never, ever love anyone else. He would never be with anyone else. He would spend the rest of his life alone. How could he break that promise now, after Newt had died? How could he turn against the only person who had understood him in the Maze, who had seen the darkest side of Minho, and hadn't run away from it?

The answer was simple. He couldn't. He couldn't.

But he loved Thomas so much, it made him hurt inside, and his hands shook, and his lungs couldn't find air. It made him ashamed to know he was feeling this way for someone other than Newt. But he couldn't stop it. He wanted to be with Thomas. He wanted to hold him, and kiss him, and take care of him. He wanted to protect him from everything dark in the world, and to be able to tell every Immune here that Thomas was his.

But he had to be content with this. This slow, agonizing torture that would surely break his heart one day. He had no doubt that Hell wasn't any worse than this.

The Immunes had built a fire in the center of the community that night. The skies overhead were a black velvet sheet, studded with diamond stars and the sailing, ivory disc of the moon. Orange sparks danced in the air above the snapping tongues of flame. The warmth was welcome in the chilly air. Kids were running around, playing manhunt in the shadows. Parents were looking on, sitting on logs and chatting contentedly. Old Immunes were sharing wisdom with a bunch of whispering, sniggering teenagers. Jorge and a couple others had vanished into the woods earlier with troublemaking snickers. Minho wondered where they'd gone.

Suddenly, he heard hurried footsteps from his right and glanced up. His heart froze when he saw Thomas, hair damp and delightfully mussed, and gloriously shirtless. The firelight played over the hard, rippling muscle of his stomach and arms as he knelt down beside Minho. "Hey," he greeted, with a smile. "Jorge and Brenda, and a couple of Immunes found a stream in the woods. Jorge's daring everyone to jump in. That's why I'm kinda wet." He ran a hand through his hair. "Wanna come?"

I want you to put me up against a tree and have your way with me. Minho didn't say that out loud though. He managed a half-grin. "Night-swimming without the old Immunes' permission," he observed lightly. "If only Angie could see her prince now."

Thomas snorted. "You coming or not?"

"You know I am." Minho climbed to his feet, thankful for the darkness; he didn't want Thomas to see his wobbly, dopey smile.

They ran into the woods. The trees were suddenly forbidding in the shadows, their branches moonlit and turned to silver in the night. Owls hooted and crickets chirped in the darkness. The scurryings of animals in the underbrush only added to the dark atmosphere. Minho heard the bubbling of the stream before he saw it. It wound between the trees at a sluggish pace, like a bright starlit ribbon in the dimness. It was pretty wide for a stream and as he emerged from the ferns with Thomas, he saw Brenda laughing and splashing in up to her waist. Her shirt was soaked and her brown hair was tangled about her shoulders. She called up to Jorge and another Immune, encouraging them to jump in. Then she saw Minho.

Her hazel eyes lit up. "Hey, Min!" she called, waving. "Come on, jump in! I dare you!" She winked, bordering on flirtatious.

Minho started at the nickname; only Thomas called him "Min." He smirked at her and reached for the hem of his T-shirt. "You better move out of my way, Brenda, cuz I'm jumping right where you're standing!"

"Bring it, baby!" Brenda crowed, flicking hair out of her eyes.

Thomas made a sound then, suspiciously close to a growl. Minho sent him a sideways glance and was surprised by the black look on Thomas' face. The other boy crossed his arms and glared at Brenda. Was Thomas...jealous?

Minho peeled his shirt off in one motion and left it beside a tall maple tree. He grinned eagerly at the icy water, adrenaline in his veins. He rubbed his palms together, ready to run and jump in, then paused.

Thomas was staring at him. Or, more specifically, at his now-shirtless body. Minho felt a warm feeling coil in his stomach and he raised his eyebrows. "What?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I... Nothing," Thomas stammered, quickly averting his eyes. "Nothing. Let's, um, let's go."

Oh, you want me bad, Minho thought with an inner, evil laugh. He jogged for the edge of the stream and, true to his word, he dove for the place where Brenda stood. She yelped and dodged away as he landed, letting himself sink briefly beneath the surface, then pushing up with his hands. He came back up and the water only reached his stomach. Raking his hands through his hair, he tossed her a devilish grin. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said airily. "Were you standing there?"

"You jerk," she snapped, giving him a shove, her hand planted on his chest. Her every movement flirted.

There was another splash as Thomas joined them and resurfaced beside Minho. He shook water droplets from his hair. Brenda and Minho let out squawks of complaint. He sniggered. "What, you don't like getting wet?"

"Shut up," Brenda chortled. She swept her arm around and sent a splash of water into Thomas' face.

Thomas' eyes widened. Minho glanced between them with glee. "Oh, it's on now," he remarked.

And sure enough, they fell into a gigantic water war. Brenda scooped up handfuls of water with her hands and threw it all over the two boys, who fought her and each other with arcing crystal drops. Jorge and the other Immunes cheered and dove into the action next. Water flew everywhere, the air muffled by the relentless splashing, the night wonderfully interrupted. Jorge pushed all of them underwater at least once (except Brenda, because she was a girl, and Minho, who just about flipped him over his shoulder when he tried). It was hilarious and full of laughter and voices in the dark.

After most of the fight had died down, Brenda and Jorge climbed out of the stream and sat at the edge, cross-legged. They quickly entered another one of their long conversations together. The other few Immunes raced off into the forest, either going to find adventure somewhere else or heading back to the fire and Haven. Thomas and Minho stuck together, retrieving their shirts from beside the bank of the stream and following it for a while to dry off. They didn't want to explain their drenched clothes and hair to the other Immunes in Haven yet.

"How far do you think it goes?" Thomas asked curiously, ducking under a low-hanging branch and gazing off down the gently rushing water.

Minho shrugged. "Dunno. Probably goes for a while."

"We should just keep walking til the end of it," Thomas replied. "Keep going and not turn back."

Minho glanced at him. "You don't like it here?"

Thomas kicked at a stone on the ground. "No, I like it here," he answered thoughtfully. "I love Haven. It's just..." He sighed. "Never mind."

"Oh, c'mon," Minho urged, nudging Thomas with his elbow.

"Nah, it's stupid."

"You mean to tell me that we were Runners together and you can't even tell me your 'stupid' thoughts?"

Thomas shook his head in amusement. "I just... Sometimes I wish it was like it was before," he admitted. "When we were in the Maze, together." He swallowed, glancing quickly at Minho before adding, "alone."

Minho's pulse sped up. "Yeah," he replied, staring at his feet. "Sometimes I want that too."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

They were quiet for a few moments. Then.

"Hey, Min?"

"Hm?"

"Remember when I broke up with Brenda?"

Ooh, that was a tearful, messy experience, permanently etched in Minho's brain. "Yeah, I remember," he grimaced.

Thomas chuckled at Minho's awkward expression. "Did I ever tell you why I left her?" he asked, a bit nervously.

"No." Minho shook his head. "Why did you?"

"I had feelings for someone else."

Minho forced a grin. "Oh, really? Who?"

Thomas blushed adorably. "No one."

"No, no, you got this far," Minho insisted, stopping and making Thomas stop too. "Now you gotta tell me."

"It's not gonna happen, Minho," Thomas replied.

"Yes it is." Minho stepped closer. "Tell me."

"Nope."

"C'mon, Thomas."

"No."

"Thomas. I will deck you right here if you don't tell me."

Thomas looked at him then, humor and something soft lighting his gaze. "Shut up, Min. I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

Thomas stared at Minho.

Minho stared at Thomas.

And suddenly, they were kissing.

Minho didn't know how it had happened. One moment, they were looking at each other, something unknown passing between them. The next, their hands were fisted in the front of each other's shirts, and their mouths were pressed together in gasping, desperate heat. Minho couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Oh god, Thomas tasted so good, like sugar and honey. Minho drowned himself in it, gripping Thomas to him. Thomas was kissing him back, all tongue, and teeth, and soft sounds of pleasure. They were electric together. Little shocks ran all over Minho's body. Why had he ever run from this?

And then he remembered.

Newt.

He broke the kiss with a ragged gasp and pushed away from Thomas, staggering back. "I can't—I can't do this," he choked out. "I...God..."

Thomas was breathing heavily, staring at him in shock. "Minho, what—?"

"No," Minho cut him off, shutting his eyes. "Don't. Please."

An emotion like heartbreak filled Thomas' eyes. "You don't feel the same," he concluded hollowly.

It would have been so much easier to go along with that, but Minho's stupid heart wouldn't let him. "God, no, Thomas, don't ever think that," he pleaded. "I—I just...can't. I promised him."

Thomas' brow furrowed in confusion. "Promised who?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"I can't tell you," Minho replied, backing away. His body still buzzed from their kiss. He had to get out of here. He had to get away, be alone, build up his wall again. "I can't be with you, Thomas. Not like this."

"Minho, what happened? Let me help you."

"Shuck it, I can't!"

"Minho." Thomas had never sounded like this before, so...loving. "Please. Stay."

Minho wanted to. Dammit, he wanted to so bad. But he just mumbled, "I'm sorry," and stumbled away, back to Haven.

Outside, he was trembling. Inside, he was broken.


	3. End & Epilogue

It was morning, and business in Haven was beginning, and Minho was doing nothing. He was leaning against the back of one of the many log-cabin-like houses in Haven, facing the woods. He folded his arms over his chest and stared off into the shade. He was numb inside. Guilt churned in his stomach for what he'd done, going against his promise to Newt. Sorrow brimmed inside of him. He'd broken Thomas' heart. He'd gotten too close, found out too much, and then he'd smashed his heart like a monster. How could he do this? How could anyone live like this?

He missed Newt so much, everyday. Nothing would ever change that.

But he was in love with Thomas.

He dragged his hands over his face and then back through his hair, lacing them together behind his head. He closed his eyes. What a wreck he was now. What an ugly, horrible wreck.

Tiny patterings—footsteps—sounded off to his right. He glanced over and was surprised when he spotted Angie's bright blue eyes peering around the corner of the house at him. She inched farther into view when he saw her. Uncertainly, she shifted her feet. "Hi, Minho," she greeted. "What'cha doin?"

"Just thinking," he replied, managing a smile for her.

"Wanna play a game?" she asked. Hope trickled into her voice.

"What kind of game?"

"The Question Game," she answered proudly. "I ask a question, then you ask a question, and we keep going until one of us doesn't wanna answer. First person to not answer loses. Wanna play?"

"Sure. You go first." Minho was glad for the distraction.

"Okay." Angie swung her arms back and forth in thought. "What's...your favorite color?"

"Blue," Minho answered easily. "What's yours?"

"Pink," she giggled. "Ummmmmm, what's your favorite thing to do?"

Minho considered that one. "Playing with you guys," he decided, and she gave a jump of happiness. "Okay, um. Who's your best friend?"

"Will, I guess," she answered. "Or Cindy." She cocked her head, studying him. "How strong are you? Like, could you lift me up?"

"Which one of those is your question?"

"The second one."

"Sure I can." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Can you lift ME up?"

She snorted. "No way!" Then she gave him her puppy-dog eyes. "Can you lift me onto your shoulders like Thomas does? Right now? Pleeeeeaaase?"

"Absolutely," he replied, and he lifted her up onto his shoulders in one smooth motion. She let out a cheer of delight, gazing down from her new height.

She ran a finger over Minho's hair and giggled. "Your hair's spiky," she informed him.

Minho smiled. "I know, right?"

"Cindy was tellin' be about your hair yesterday," Angie continued. She lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "She thinks you're cute."

Minho could only laugh at that. "And she's okay with you telling me that?"

"She doesn't have to know." Angie flapped her hand dismissively, nose lifted in a fun, troublemaking way. Then she blinked down at him. "Do you like Thomas?"

Minho swallowed hard. This might be the one question he skipped. He took a breath. "Yeah," he admitted. "Why?"

"I could just tell," she replied. "You always look like you wanna hug him when you play with us and you get all gooey when he talks to you. Why don't you tell him you like him?"

"Well, I want to," he told her, leaving out the kiss. "But I was with someone else before. And I promised him that I wouldn't like anyone else."

"What happened to him?" she asked, with childlike curiosity.

"He died, before we came here," Minho said gently. Sadness hung over him as he thought of Newt's death. "But I need to keep my promise to him."

"Well, that's dumb," she announced unexpectedly. "You can't help it if you like Thomas now. You should just tell him. I bet your other guy would understand."

"You think so?" he asked, partly for the benefit of the game and partly because he was listening to her.

"Yeah!" She beamed proudly. Then she patted his hair, careful not to mess up the "spikiness." "Okay, you can put me down now."

He obediently picked her up and set her back down on her feet. She dashed off, heading back to the meadow, probably. But before she disappeared around the side of the house, she halted and looked back. "And don't worry about, like, if Thomas won't like you back," she advised. "Cuz you are really cute." She blushed like the little girl she was and raced away.

Minho stared after her, thinking about her words. Would Newt really understand if Minho wanted to move on? To be happy again?

A new voice suddenly spoke from behind, startling him. "Angie? Where'd you go?" Minho whirled around and found himself face to face with Thomas. Thomas halted when he saw that Angie wasn't back there. Then a shadow of pain clouded his brown eyes. "Oh. Hey, Minho. Have you seen Angie?"

Minho felt his throat close up. "Yeah, she went back into Haven," he replied.

"Okay. Thanks," Thomas said, and actually smiled. Smiled! At Minho, who had hurt him and pushed him away. And he wasn't bringing up last night either. It was another reminder of Thomas' kindness, that he was willing to let it go because he cared about Minho.

He was just about to pass by in search of Angie when Minho blurted it out. "I'm sorry, Thomas."

Thomas halted. He stared at Minho with such sorrow in his gaze that it killed Minho on the inside. "No, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "That promise you talked about... I know it was about Newt. You were devastated when you lost him. I shouldn't have expected you to have any feelings for me."

Minho took a step forward. "I do have feelings for you," he said brokenly. "But I felt so guilty, thinking I was hurting Newt somehow."

"Then I shouldn't have pushed you the way I did," Thomas argued sadly. "I shouldn't have kissed you."

"No, Thomas, I—" He broke off, a shaky breath escaping him. "I never wanted to let you go. You mean so much to me." He had never talked like this before. He didn't look at Thomas when he said it. "Thomas, I...I love you."

Thomas didn't say anything. At first, Minho was terrified that he'd said the wrong thing at the wrong time. He took a breath to take it back, but stopped when he felt Thomas' hands on him, one on his hip and one on his chest. His blood rushed wildly as Thomas pushed him up against the wall of the house and kissed him.

It was just as sweet as the first time, and just as electric. Minho brought his hands up to Thomas' waist, slinging his fingers in his belt loops. Thomas' thumb was stroking the skin just above Minho's waistband, his fingers curling in the front of his shirt. Minho couldn't stop, even if he wanted to. The kiss was deeper, softer, not as desperate as last night's kiss. But Minho felt all of his carefully-built walls crumbling.

He could be with Thomas. He could move on, and he felt that Newt would want him to do so. He didn't have to be alone anymore.

Thomas slipped his hand under Minho's shirt, palm searing the bare skin at his waist and making Minho's knees weak. They slid down the wall until he was sitting against it with Thomas straddling him. Thomas drew back slightly, kissing the corner of Minho's mouth, his jaw, leaving a burning trail back to his ear. Minho whimpered, utterly helpless in his arms. Thomas circled his arms around Minho's waist, holding him in a loving embrace. "I love you, Minho," he whispered.

And somehow, Minho knew that it might've taken months, or even years, but eventually, they would've ended up together.

-o-o-o-

It was a beautiful, lazy summer silence that hung over Haven that day. The sky was cloudless and a brilliant shade of deep blue. The long grass of the meadow swayed in a warm breeze, turned to golden silk in the sunlight. Mothers were out enjoying the weather, watching their children play or exchanging gossip with each other. Elderly couples sat on makeshift chairs outside their homes, talking and looking so adorable. Everything was peaceful.

Unfortunately, that peace did not last long.

"GET HIM, GUYS, GET HIM! SLAY THE DRAGON!"

Angie's shout split the air a second before a boy with broad shoulders and spiked ebony hair burst from the woods and raced toward Haven. The people looked on in confusion and then surprised amusement as a horde of kids exploded from the trees behind him. There were about five or six kids in all, and all of them let out a collective battle cry before chasing after the black-haired boy. At the edge of the woods, watching with bright grins, stood Angie and another boy with sandy-brown hair.

Minho glanced back once. "Oh my shucking god, why do you want to tickle me so bad?!" he asked, partly playing along and partly terrified at the prospect of a dozen tiny hands tickling him.

Will was leading the charge and he was the one that shouted back. "Cuz you're the DRAGON!"

"Why can't THOMAS be the dragon?!"

"Duh! Because Thomas is the prince!"

"That's not fair, he's always the prince!"

There wasn't any more time for words then because that was when they caught him. The Immunes covered their mouths to stifle laughter as Minho disappeared under a mass of squealing children. They could barely make him out, laughing and holding his sides in an effort to shield them as hands poked at his ribs. It was hilarious to watch.

Thomas and Angie finally approached from the woods. Thomas watched Minho struggle for a second or two. "Okay, guys, let him go," he said. "I think you got the dragon pretty good this time." He held out a hand to help Minho up.

Suddenly, a hand shot from the mob of kids and grabbed Thomas' outstretched arm. He yelped as he was dragged down into the crowd. Immediately, a chorus of ewwwwwwww's and a few girly awwwwwwwww's rose from the kids and they scattered. Left behind was Thomas, stretched out on top of Minho, both grinning at each other.

Minho kept his hands at Thomas' waist, holding Thomas to him. He rested his head against the grass and flashed his signature smirk. "Got you."

"No you don't," Thomas argued, a glint in his brown eyes. His forearms were holding himself up; one hand played idly with Minho's hair.

"Uh, yeah. I do." Minho lifted his head to nuzzle Thomas' neck. "And I'm not letting you go either."

"But I know your weakness," Thomas pointed out. And he promptly stuck one hand into Minho's ribs.

"Agh, crap!" Minho twisted to escape the fingers digging into his sides, but Thomas was on top of him and made it impossible. Thomas only tickled him harder. "Stop!" he gasped out between fits of laughter.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Thomas asked lightly.

"Stop, please!"

"That's still not what I wanted to hear."

"Dammit, Thomas, what?!"

Thomas smiled. "Tell me you love me."

"Okay, okay, I love you!"

The tickling stopped instantly. Minho collapsed back onto the grass in relief, chest heaving. His sides were sore as hell again, though. He really needed to get this ticklish thing under control. Thomas slipped his hand under Minho's shirt, soothingly massaging the aches away from Minho's sides. Minho groaned in appreciation.

"Sorry, love," Thomas murmured. "I forgot that tickling kinda hurts sometimes."

Thomas' thumb was rubbing a particularly sensitive spot above Minho's waistband. "Oh, god, that feels good," Minho breathed, forgetting what Thomas had even said.

Thomas chuckled. "Feeling better, I see."

In reply, Minho gave him his version of puppy eyes, which was downright adorable. It was sort of a sly look, thanks to his ever-present smirk, and gave him the impression of a puppy about to make trouble. "Kiss me?"

Thomas rolled his eyes, but obediently leaned down and pecked Minho's mouth. Minho whimpered at the chasteness and nipped Thomas' bottom lip. Thomas immediately pressed their mouths together again. They kissed deeply, softly, for only a few moments, aware that they might have an audience in Haven. When they broke apart, Minho left one last, tiny kiss on Thomas' nose before resting his head against the grass again. "Still love me?" he asked quietly.

"With all of my heart," Thomas whispered.

"Still want me?"

"I'll always want you, Min."

"Still wanna be the prince?"

Thomas snorted at that one. "What're you talking about?"

Minho dropped his voice to an exaggerated, frantic whisper, so that the kids wouldn't overhear. "I can't be the damn dragon again. I can't take it anymore. My freaking abs can't take it anymore, they hurt like hell."

Impossibly, some kid, maybe Cindy, yelled, "MINHO'S GOT ABS!"

"I WANNA SEE!" another kid shouted back.

Minho moaned in despair. "You gotta be kidding me," he whined.

Thomas just laughed, giddy with the whole thing, every beautiful part of it. "I'll protect you, baby," he murmured, nuzzling Minho's nose and making Minho raise his eyebrows at the cute gesture, with a silly smile on his face. "I won't let the little five-year-olds hurt you."

Minho grinned hopefully. "Soooooo...you're saying that YOU'LL be the dragon next time."

Thomas chuckled. "Shut up, Min," he said, before kissing Minho again.

Around them, the grass was golden, the sky was clear, and the happy conversation of Haven filled the air.

Summer stretched ahead of them, bright and endless.

All was well.


End file.
